


swimming in the moonlight

by cherryraindrops



Series: Bartender AU [1]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Flirting, M/M, Minor Violence, Non-Consensual Touching, bartending au, it's very brief tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 02:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13308792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryraindrops/pseuds/cherryraindrops
Summary: Jack Lawrence was someone that Rhys couldn’t quite pin down. For as long as Rhys had been working at Hyperion, Jack had been there giving him flirtatious winks and occasionally snapping at him with the towel used to wipe down the counter. Most of the other servers had warned Rhys not to pay any mind to him, that he usually tones down the flirting and remarks after you’ve been there a month.It's been nearly a year. To make the matter even worse, Jack owned the damn place, so it wasn’t as if Rhys could go to the owners and explain just how obnoxious it was to have the bartender consistently hit on him and only him.or, Rhys is a server at a popular bar owned by Jack, the very obnoxious bartender.





	swimming in the moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> Whoa, writing something that isn't for 5SOS? yeah, I am just as surprised as you are. (Not my fault those idiots won't release their next album dammit)
> 
> ANYWAY, this is my first attempt at Rhack, or Borderlands in general. I'm really nervous about posting this, but I do like how this turned out so I am hoping for the best! Title is from the Bad Suns songs by the same name. 
> 
> I'm debating turning this into a series? Just little snippets of the adventures of Jack and Rhys in this universe really. idk though.

If Rhys had to be completely honest with himself, moving to New Haven was exactly what he needed in his life. He knew his mother would completely disagree with him, the woman having her own expectations of Rhys rather than the ones he had reminded her of since he _graduated,_ but that didn’t matter now. His mother was clear back in Hollow Point, nearly halfway across the _country._ She wasn’t in charge of Rhys’ life anymore. She didn’t get to dictate where he lived (a rather well-kept loft on a better side of town), where he worked ( _Hyperion,_ the nicest bar in New Haven), or even what he was studying in University (photography, and he was _damn good_ ).

It was nice to finally have freedom away from his over bearing mother and be his own person, and New Haven was the perfect place to escape. Rhys finally felt as though he could do the things he wanted to do without another person breathing down his neck about his decisions. It was a great change of pace.

However, though he won’t ever admit it out loud, maybe the job at Hyperion wasn’t the greatest job in the entire world. It wasn’t something that Rhys had wanted to do, because what college student wants to work at a bar? He had to afford the rent somehow, and while he would rather be doing something else for a living, he guesses there are worse jobs out there than being a waiter for a bunch of drunks and upper-class socialites. Plus, said socialites usually tipped quite the pretty penny, so Rhys had learned to keep his annoyances to himself.

There was one annoyance, however, that could not be contained within him for very long.

“Let me guess, someone is having her bachelorette party and wants to get completely shit faced with her college besties?” The bartender, a rather obnoxious guy with a few years on Rhys responds when Rhys puts in an order for twenty shot glasses. “Sounds like a party I’d want to be a part of. Who did you have to bribe to serve them, aye Rhysie?”

Jack Lawrence was someone that Rhys couldn’t quite pin down. For as long as Rhys had been working at Hyperion, Jack had been there giving him flirtatious winks and occasionally snapping at him with the towel used to wipe down the counter. Most of the other servers had warned Rhys not to pay any mind to him, that he usually tones down the flirting and remarks after you’ve been there a month.

It's been nearly a _year._ To make the matter even worse, Jack _owned_ the damn place, so it wasn’t as if Rhys could go to the owners and explain just how obnoxious it was to have the bartender consistently hit on him and _only_ him.

(He remembers talking to Sasha, one of the other servers that works alongside him, who told him how Jack had been in a relationship with _three_ of the servers at once and the disaster it had made work once they had all found out. Rhys had laughed at the time, but now it seemed like a possibility.)

“Close,” Rhys responds, tucking his tablet back into the pack pocket of his dress pants. “A young woman going through a devastating break up whose ‘bestie’ wants her as drunk as we can get her. Maybe you should swoop in, heal a broken heart.”

He frowns when it appears that Jack is _considering_ doing that, rolling his eyes as he reaches for another table’s prepared drinks. The tray they are on tilts slightly as he lifts it up, nearly spilling a little bit of Blue Hawaiian on a guy who couldn’t be bothered to look up from his phone. “Eh, I’ve already got my eye on something else tonight, but thanks for looking out for me, cupcake.”

The nickname makes Rhys shiver, as he always does whenever one of Jack’s nicknames is aimed towards him. He knows he’s not the only person at Hyperion who Jack gives nicknames to, but it seems with him that the nicknames are _fonder._ There is a softer tone in Jack’s voice whenever he’s talking to Rhys, and while Rhys would love to blame it on the fact that Jack has some weird thing for teasing the boy, something else nags at Rhys that maybe it was something _more._

As much as Jack’s insistent flirtations were becoming a nuisance, part of Rhys enjoyed the attention he received from the bartender. Maybe it was because he hadn’t been on the receiving end of flirting in some time, but there was also the fact that Jack wasn’t exactly unattractive. His heterochromatic eyes were a sight to see, a soft ocean blue contrasting with a vivid green. There was a slight scar that cut through Jack’s left eye, giving his green eyes a bit of a milky white shade. Rhys had asked him once if he was blinded in his left eye, but Jack had simply laughed at him and quipped, “Only slightly, but I can still tell if someone is gorgeous or not, and let me tell you, you _definitely_ are.”

After dropping off the other table’s order, he makes his way back towards the bar to collect the shots when he hears laughter, loud and cheerful laughter, coming from the table of girls whom ordered the shots. It seemed Jack had taken it upon himself to deliver them personally, and the girls were laughing it up at something he said, blush on their cheeks and hands covering their mouths. Rhys rolls his eyes.

Jack makes his way back to the bar a little while later, a smirk on his face and what was a lip stick stain smeared on his cheek. He looks rather pleased with himself as he reaches for his tip jar, dispensing what was a fifty-dollar bill into it. “You know, Rhysie, a little bit of flirting does go a long way in the end. Not only are you treating customers to some damn fine drinks, but you are assuring them that are worthy of attention, even if they are drunk off their ass.” He pulls a twenty and a five out of his jar from earlier, stuffing the bills into Rhys’s shirt pocket. His hand remains there, the warmth from his palm radiating onto Rhys’s chest. “I’ll split it with you, because I like you, but next time you should think about giving them a little something extra with their drinks.”

“What happened to just good ol’ friendly customer service?” Rhys inquires, folding his arms across his chest with an eyebrow raised. “I know you can get by with your looks, but I’d rather just get by with being personable, _approachable.”_

Jack releases a howling laugh at Rhys’s words, leaning up against the bar as he wipes fake tears from his eyes. “Trust me, cupcake, your ass definitely makes you approachable. Now, I’m saying this as a friend and mentor, not as your boss, but you should definitely use your _assets_ to your advantage.” He emphasizes assets with a cheeky grin, and Rhys tries not to groan at the awful pun.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t trying his hardest not to blush at Jack’s off handed compliment about his ass. It wasn’t unusual for Jack to give him compliments, but it still took Rhys off guard at times when he least expects it.

“Noted,” he finally responds before taking off back towards the booths. He can feel Jack watching him as he walks off, eyes probably wandering the length of his body, and he tries his best to ignore just how warm he feels because of it.

**

Rhys likes to pride himself in the fact that he’s a rather patient person. He certainly wasn’t when he was a child, as his mother often loves to remind him in his now adult age, but moving away from his family and starting up a life path of his own has really taught him the importance of waiting for things. Rhys believes it has made him a better person, and that certainly wasn’t a bad thing in his eyes.

However, his patience could be stretched thin if you gave it time, and right now was about the time.

Working at Hyperion had taught Rhys that drunk patrons, or at least patrons working their way _towards_ getting drunk, were less than polite when it came to their servers. Vaughn had warned him of this when Rhys first took the job, Sasha warned him once more his first week, and now Rhys was repeating to himself the same thing currently to not do anything rash against the rather crude customer he had the misfortune of serving.

“Surprised a cute thing like you isn’t over there,” the rather burly man comments to Rhys as he places another drink in front of him. The man’s thumb is jutting out towards the dancers on stage, with their sultry glances and their scarce clothing drawing in more wide-eyed patrons. “You’ve got the body for it, if those tight jeans say anything.” He gives Rhys a flirtatious wink, leaving Rhys to hold back from rolling his eyes as he turns back towards the other customers.

He doesn’t expect to feel a sharp pinch on his ass, making him yelp rather loudly and spin around to face the man once more. The man doesn’t seem all to bothered by Rhys’s annoyance however, already returning to his drink with a sleazy grin. It takes everything in Rhys not to confront the man, smack that drink out of his hands and give him a piece of his mind.

He doesn’t, though. Patience.

“Not sure I like the look on your face Rhysie,” Jack comments when Rhys passes the other half of the bar, fists slightly clenched to keep his annoyance inside. “Mind telling me what’s got you all tense? Can’t have my employees looking unapproachable.”

 _Deep breaths._ “Drunks not being able to keep their hands to themselves, that’s all.”

Jack paused on the drink he had been mixing, setting down the bottle of vodka to look at Rhys. “Come again?”

Maybe Rhys was wrong, but the look currently marring Jack’s face looked almost like a mix between jealousy and _anger._ A part of Rhys regretted bringing it up at all, he should have just brushed it off as just having an off day. The other part was growing curious as to why Jack was acting in such a way. Sure, Jack was protective of his employees, but this was something else.

Maybe he was reading Jack wrong. Maybe.

Before Rhys could repeat what he had said, a sharp whistle cut through the air from the other side of the bar, making Jack whip around to the offender. Rhys tensed when he saw that it was _that guy,_ waving his hand drunkenly in the air and pointing towards his now empty glass.

Jack turned back to Rhys, a questioning eyebrow raised. “That him?” Rhys didn’t even get a chance to react before Jack was already in front of the guy, menacing smirk on his face as he reached for the guy’s glass. “What were we drinking, _pal?”_

“White Russian,” the man responds, though he’s looking directly at Rhys when he says it. “Come over here cutie, I wanna ask you something!”

Unsure of what Jack’s plan was, Rhys moves towards the drunken sleaze standing before them, cautious. “Is there something I can help you with?” he asks through his teeth.

The guy waggles his eyebrows, an attempt at seduction that looks rather comical from Rhys’s standpoint. “Was curious when you get off, because I would love to get _you_ off.” It’s an awful pick up line, one that has Rhys outwardly cringing. The guy seems to think of it as seductive genius, however, as he loops a finger through one of Rhys’s belt loops and pulls him closer to him. His breath is warm on Rhys’s skin, wet and foul enough to make Rhys squirm out of the man’s grasp.

Before Rhys can attempt to shove the man away, however, glass shatters around him. The guy topples to the ground in a heap, specks of what used to be a bottle littering his hair and mixing with the unmistakable specks of blood. Rhys knows he should probably call for security, help get the guy some medical help maybe, but all he can do is stand there with his mouth wide open in shock.

Jack doesn’t seem all too bothered by the scene, hands still gripping the neck of the now broken bottle with fury behind his eyes. “ _Don’t touch my employees, ass wipe.”_ He hisses, though Rhys is sure the guy couldn’t hear him. He turns towards his boss, about to stumble through a thank you when he notices Jack’s hand is bleeding, a gash piercing the palm of his hand.

“Jack, you’re bleeding,” Rhys points out dumbly, reaching forward to take the bottle from the man’s hands and investigate the wound. Patrons around them simply stare at the exchange, mostly confused while others look at the man now crumpled on the floor with surprise. Rhys didn’t care what they thought of the whole exchange, and it was clear that Jack didn’t pay no mind either. He shrugged at Rhys’s words and tossed what was left of the bottle in the garbage can before whistling security over.

“Get this trash out of here, make sure he never comes back in,” he instructs, reaching underneath the bar and revealing a first aid kit. He hands it off to one of the bigger security guys. “Maybe patch him up while you’re at it. He’s getting blood on the floors.”

Security seems unbothered by the entire fiasco, merely nodding before dragging the guy towards the exit. Rhys still stands there, unsure of what to do next when he feels Jack’s hand touch the side of his face, gentle. Strange, considering what had just occurred. “You okay there, Rhysie?”

“Um.”

Jack laughs softly, grabbing a wash rag and wrapping it around his bleeding hand. “You’re welcome, by the way. I would apologize for the violence, but the guy deserved it. No one touches any of my employees, especially you.” He puts his good hand on Rhys’s shoulder, tearing the boy away from the scene on the floor and towards him. “Still there, cupcake?”

Rhys nods. “Thank you, Jack. I mean, you didn’t have to smash a bottle over his head, but I, um, appreciate it. The help.” He’s still slightly shaken, unsure of how to approach the fact that _his boss just smashed a bottle over a guy’s head for him._

Jack grins at him. “He was a creep anyway, someone else was bound to do the same.” He removes the rag, reaching for a small bottle of rubbing alcohol in the kit and pouring a generous amount on it before wrapping it back around his hand. He hisses slightly at the sharp pain, and Rhys finds himself placing a comforting hand on his boss’s arm. “I’ll be alright, pumpkin. Go check on your customers.”

Rhys feels unsure about leaving Jack alone now, though he’s sure that the man could handle his own injury without Rhys there hovering. He does as he’s told, making sure his customers are doing alright and that their drinks are full. A lot of them ask him about the commotion, if a fight had broken out over at the bar. Rhys simply waves them off, however, telling some made up bullshit about a guy not willing to pay for his drink who got a little violent.

When last call rolls around, customers beginning to file out or order their final drinks, Rhys sees Jack again. His hand is bandaged up now, the mess of glass and blood on the floor vanished. Most of the patrons Rhys tended to have already left, leaving only a couple that were finishing up their final drinks. With the bar a little less crowded than earlier, Rhys approaches Jack.

“How is your hand?” he asks, making Jack turn around from where he had been restocking the bottles. “Does it hurt at all?”

Jack shakes his head. “I’ve dealt with worse than a little cut to the palm.” Rhys expects something flirtatious, maybe about how the hero deserved a little reward for saving him or something. Instead he gets, “Are _you_ alright? You seemed a little distressed about the whole thing.”

Sure, Rhys was a little surprised at the outburst. Who wouldn’t be? Though the whole situation was more of an exciting story to tell Vaughn when he got off work that night rather than distressing. “I’m alright. I appreciate the concern, though.”

“I look out for my employees,” Jack tells him, serious. “The last thing I want is them being disrespected. I might not be the greatest boss in New Haven, but I do care about the people I employ. No one gets to treat you like that without dealing with me.” He puts a hand on Rhys’s metal one. “It’s not your fault you are cute.”

 _Ah,_ there it was.

“I’ll try not to be so, uh, cute then?” Rhys jokes, pulling his metal hand away and crossing his arms. “Though someone did tell me that I could use it to my advantage to gain tips. Should I ignore such sound advice in the future?”

He likes the way Jack’s face lights up at that, the chuckle that leaves his lips. “Maybe just be careful with such power, yeah? Could be dangerous.” He leaves Rhys with a wink before going back to stocking, and Rhys leaves the bar with a bit of blush dusting his cheeks as he heads towards the backrooms to change clothes.

Once his uniform is hung up and he’s bundled into his coat, Rhys returns to the front to do his drop for the night. The bar is now completely empty, save for the rest of the staff that are cleaning up to get ready to head home as well. He can see Sasha counting her tips at one end of the bar, making idle conversation with Jack as he counts his own tips.

“Looks like you did good tonight,” Jack comments to her, flicking at same of the bills in her hands. “Try not to spend it all in one place.”

Sasha snorts. “Please, all of this is going towards my overdue rent. Though, if there is some left over, I could go for some new work shoes. These ones are definitely wearing out.” She lefts her leg up slightly, nearly falling off the bar stool she’s sitting on and causing her and Jack to laugh. Her eyes catch Rhys as he approaches, and she waves him over. “How about you? Manage to make anything good?”

Rhys pulls out his money from the night, dumping it onto the bar in front of the two with a grin. “Good enough to treat myself to something nice. Definitely enough to pay Vaughn back for buying lunch the past few times.” He takes a seat beside Sasha and looks to Jack. “Pretty sure you made some decent cash tonight.”

“I _always_ make decent cash,” Jack jokes, closing the register with his hip before reaching for his tip jar. “Though I am pretty sure there is enough in here to treat a certain someone to a nice night, on me.” He hands Sasha a twenty from the jar. “You kicked ass tonight. You deserve a little extra.”

Sasha beams at him, snatching the bill and adding it to her pile. “I _knew_ there was a reason I liked you.” She tucks her tips away into her bag, slinging it over her shoulder before waving good bye to the two of them. “See you guys tomorrow night!”

The two wave back to her, Jack turning to Rhys. “Do you work tomorrow night? I don’t believe I scheduled you for then.”

Rhys shakes his head. “Nah, unless you need me to come in?”

“I got something better in mind,” Jack tells him, reaching underneath the bar and pulling out his own jacket. “While I don’t expect a reward for saving you from that pain in the ass earlier tonight, considering I was just protecting my employees, how would you like to go out for dinner tomorrow?”

There it was: nearly a year of flirtatious words and winks, compliments that left Rhys blushing and warm. Here it was coming to a point. Honestly, if you had asked Rhys, it took Jack long enough.

He follows Jack out of the bar, watching as he shuts off the lights and locks the front door before the two of them head towards the parking garage. He waits until they reach Jack’s car before he pulls on the older man’s hand, kissing his cheek before responding with, “I would love that.”

He dashes to his car before Jack can properly respond, face burning as he collapses into the driver seat. What was with him? Beginning of the night he thought this was all just fun, that it wouldn’t lead to anything. Now he had just agreed to a date with his _boss?_ Vaughn was sure to give him crap for it once he got home.

Rhys looks back at Jack’s car before he starts his own, and chuckles when he sees that his boss is still standing there, touching his cheek with a soft grin. Yeah, Rhys thinks as he finally starts up his car and begins to head out of the garage. This was a perfect way to end his night.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at lucasashtons!!


End file.
